


a love like religion

by akadefenders



Series: hannigram fic requests [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Body Image, Body Worship, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Comeplay, Established Relationship, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Love, Mirror Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Scent Kink, Top Will Graham, Will Graham Loves Hannibal Lecter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 09:36:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29872701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akadefenders/pseuds/akadefenders
Summary: “Yes, well, Leopardi also said, ‘It will be lonely to the end: the gods have set no limit to the gloom that darkens old age, except the tomb,’” said Will, rolling his eyes. “But, Hannibal, I do not intend for neither you nor I to be lonely ever again. I fully intend to grow old with you. And isn’t that the dream? Growing old together?”Hannibal finds himself growing self conscious of his stomach as he grows older. Luckily for him, Will isn't having any of it.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Series: hannigram fic requests [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2163090
Comments: 10
Kudos: 120





	a love like religion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pukepolice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pukepolice/gifts).



“And what year was this made?”

Will Graham was many things - husband, professor, empath, wanted fugitive, murderer. Will Graham was also on an antiquing expedition with Hannibal Lecter, notorious cannibal serial killer. He shook his head in a moment of shocked self awareness as Hannibal examined a set of fine bone china teacups with ornately carved gold handles.

“I swear to God, we are not buying $450 teacups just so you can break them,” said Will in an undertone, smiling placidly in the direction of the seller who was watching them intently.

“Actually, I wanted to buy these to replace the ones we broke last Sunday,” replied Hannibal, turning to face Will and shoot him a look.

Will blushed. It was his fault the teacups had broken last Sunday. It turned out the glass kitchen cabinet was not the sturdiest piece of furniture against which to leverage a naked fifty-five year old man.

“Yes, well, we’re actually here to shop for a mirror, not for teacups.”

Hannibal gave him a look that Will had come to realise was his version of rolling his eyes. To anyone else it would look like a simple exasperated smile but to Will it said, “Honestly, Will did you really think we would go out and buy only one thing?” Will shook his head fondly and slid his hand into Hannibal’s, bumping his shoulder against his companionably as if to tell him to go buy as many useless and extravagant things he wanted. 

It was a lost cause anyway. Warnings to Hannibal to be careful with their purchases given that they were how Mason Verger had once tracked him often fell on deaf ears. Besides, Hannibal doted on Will so often that it was hard for Will to say no to him. It made him a little uncomfortable at times, having grown up with little money, but if he even insinuated that he liked something then he would come home to find it sitting in their shared closet or in his den. If Hannibal looked out for his happiness in the smallest of moments, then who was Will to deny him? He’d already done too many times in the past and it had gotten them nowhere.

“Alright,” he said, chuckling. “I’ll just have a look around.”

He squeezed Hannibal’s hand in encouragement, feeling its softness and stroking his thumb slowly over the skin of its back. As he let go and wandered away, he heard Hannibal tell the vendor to wrap the teacups as they would be buying them. The antique shop was divided into two sections - the front was all dark, rich wood and glass cabinets filled with expensive cutlery, raw silk tablecloths and place settings, crystal vases, stopwatches, great brass globes, collapsible telescopes, and more pieces of delicate jewellery than Will could count.

He wandered through a curtained hallway and emerged to the second part of the store - a large, airy room with timber flooring, high vaulted ceilings, and huge glass windows, positively packed to the brim with furniture. He took in the organised chaos that was the room before picking his way around it in a clockwise pattern, starting from his left. 

There was a green velvet fabric chaise from the Victorian era that he knew Hannibal would love as well as a set of French Aubusson embroidered fauteuil chairs from the 19th century. Will swept his hand along the wood of the chairs, feeling the grain and stroking the fabric to test its softness. He moved on to a section where rugs were hung from a movable frame. He sifted through idly from Rococo to Renaissance patterns, vaguely admiring the effort that would have gone into their production. Next to the rugs was a hand carved Baroque sofa set, resplendent with a golden frame and red velvet seating. The price tag made his eyes widen.

Hastily, he moved onto the section filled with mirrors. Recently, Hannibal had begun dropping hints that the half mirror in their bedroom was unsatisfactory and a full length mirror was necessary in the home. After a solid week of cajoling, and one thoroughly mindblowing round of sex in their indoor heated pool, Will had agreed to the mirror. He brushed past the smaller mirrors braced on stands and examined the full body mirrors that rested along the back wall. 

There was a truly monstrous 10 feet tall gilt gesso mirror next to a carved mahogany Swedish neoclassical console with a mirror attached. Will dismissed the first as too large and the second as unnecessarily bulky. He arrived at another golden mirror, tall and wide but not ridiculously so. The tag read that it was from Aix-en-Provence from 1790. Will admired the ornate carving and the brightness of the gold before realising the price was over 90 000 krona.

“See something you like?” came Hannibal’s voice from behind him.

Will hummed noncommittally. 

“This one seems to be the best candidate so far,” he replied. “But it is far too expensive.”

"Haven’t I told you, Will, that price is not a concern?”

“Hannibal,” said Will exasperatedly as he did some mental math, “we’re not spending $10 000 on a mirror. It’s wasteful.”

“The mirror is in excellent quality given the time period it is from. There is minimal damage to the frame too. It has been restored rather well,” he mused.

“Yes, it is beautiful but I really think we should try another shop. I mean, this is exorbitant,” Will protested.

Hannibal sidled up to Will, far too close and intimate in his personal space for their public location. Will felt his lips brush his ear.

“I distinctly remember you saying, ‘if you do that thing with your tongue every time, you can have all the mirrors you like.' I did not take you for a man who breaks his promises, Will,” reminded Hannibal in a low tone, teasing and sensual.

Will blushed at the memory. Struggling to regain control, he pulled away to steady himself and faced Hannibal squarely.

“We really need to be a bit more careful with our money. If we keep making purchases like this… Besides, we can find beautiful and cheaper mirrors elsewhere.”

“But you like this one,” Hannibal pointed out.

Will sighed fondly. 

“Yes, I do. But that doesn’t mean we need to buy it. Or that I won’t find something else I like.”

“Will,” said Hannibal, taking his hand, “For a long time I’ve had more wealth than I knew what to do with. Inherited from my family and earned through my profession. I must admit, I am used to the finer things in life. But nothing brings me more joy than sharing what I have with you.”

Crap, thought Will. How the hell was he supposed to say no now?

“You really are incorrigible,” he accused, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on Hannibal’s cheek.

“Yes.”

“Stubborn,” said Will, as he pulled back.

“Of course.”

“In love with me,” he murmured, heart aching a little.

“There are no words with which to express how much, dear Will.”

“Buy the damn mirror.”

Hannibal laughed, delighted as he always was when he got his way. They took the teacups home with them in their car, letting the delivery truck follow behind. And if Hannibal was extra affectionate that night then Will couldn’t find it in himself to complain.

Something was wrong with Hannibal. 

For the past week, he had been reticent, quiet and detached. The two of them spent time by themselves, enjoying their private hobbies, but never before had Will seen less of Hannibal. After coming home from work, he had without fail sequestered himself in his study, drawing and playing the piano. This was especially surprising because Hannibal didn't really like playing the piano. He did so from time to time but the presence of the instrument in their home was a sore point since Hannibal had yet to have been able to procure a satisfactory harpsichord. Moreover, he had not initiated sex even once. 

Now, Will was not the kind of man who felt entitled to sex in a relationship. But since he and Hannibal had started having sex, they hadn’t really stopped. It wasn’t a general increase in his libido, more a genuine desire for closeness, for intimacy, for oneness. To have Hannibal pull back so suddenly and without explanation set off warning bells in Will’s mind. He tried to read what Hannibal was feeling but the man had put his walls up. Will knew something was bothering him. He just didn’t know what.

Will watched Hannibal as they ate dinner, quietly for once. His movements were neat and precise as usual but he seemed far away.

Will sighed.

“Will you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked.

Hannibal looked up at him in polite affected surprise. Will repressed another sigh. So, it was going to be like that.

“Nothing is wrong, Will. Is the food not satisfactory for you?”

Will shook his head with a small smile. Hannibal would have to try harder than that if he wanted Will to drop the issue.. He finished the last bite on his plate, taking care to clean up every last trace of sauce and spearing the tiniest pea on a fork tine so nothing was left behind. When he was done, he looked up at Hannibal, quirking his brows so as to show he’d enjoyed the food enough to finish every last morsel.

Hannibal smiled at him in response, fond and sweet, but still in his eyes, Will could see a lingering restlessness.

Will sent Hannibal to the study when they were done with two glasses of wine, washing the dishes by himself in the kitchen. He went through the motions absentmindedly, trying to understand what the problem might be. Hannibal was one to feel all his emotions intensely - he did not wear them on his sleeve for all to see but he was not one to repress them either. When he was upset he was more likely to lash out to regain a form of control than to retract into himself like this.

He found a little relief in this - at least he was not the cause for Hannibal’s problems. He would have known by now if he was. Hannibal would have let him know. His scar throbbed on his abdomen as Will ruefully smiled. 

Dishes done, he wiped the sink and dried his hands before finding Hannibal nursing his wine as he stared at an open book in his lap. Will could tell that although he was reading, he wasn’t taking anything in. He frowned before walking over to Hannibal and plucking the wine glass from his hand and putting it on the table next to his waiting one. Hannibal looked at him, puzzled as Will moved his book, marking it with the ribbon. He sat down, not on the couch next to Hannibal as expected, but onto him, straddling his thighs.

Slowly, he leaned in and kissed Hannibal’s lips, sliding his hands up his arms. He leaned back, smiled and pressed a kiss to the small scar on his cheek then to one patrician eyebrow then back down to his lips.

“I know something is wrong,” he murmured into Hannibal’s mouth. “Will you not tell me?”

He looked up into those brown eyes, lit softly by lamplight, and found indecision there. 

“I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was bothering you.”

Hannibal sighed, his hands finally sliding up Will’s flanks, smoothing over the creases in his shirt. Will tilted his head forwards until their foreheads touched, their breaths mingling. 

“Do you ever consider your age, Will?”

Will blinked a little and pulled back.

“As in my mortality?”

Hannibal chuckled.

“No, I mean the physical aspects of ageing. The ways our bodies change - deviations in muscle mass, the wrinkles, the fading eyesight.”

Will hummed a little. 

“All things considered, I feel lucky to have lived this long,” he admitted. “I thought I would have died long ago. It doesn’t matter to me much how I look, so long as I am alive and here with you.”

“Well of course it wouldn’t,” said Hannibal fondly.

“What does that mean?” asked Will, baffled.

"Will, you are ten years younger than I am,” Hannibal pointed out. 

“And?” asked Will, suddenly annoyed. “You’re not old.”

Hannibal smoothed the hair away from Will’s forehead and cradled his head in one hand. Will leaned into the touch.

“Yes, I am, and only getting older, Will.”

“So what if you are?” he asked stubbornly.

“You may not notice, Will but I have. Last week when we brought the mirror home, I looked at myself. I don’t know when it happened, perhaps all my time spent incarcerated is the culprit, but my body has changed. I never used to before but… I have a stomach now. And my hair is greying. I’ll need glasses soon.”

Will softened a little.

“I love your grey hair,” he said, combing his fingers through it, messing up the meticulous parting. “I think it makes you look very dignified.”

Hannibal tilted his head slightly, expressing his disbelief.

“And if I may be honest then I’ve always found glasses to be quite sexy,” continued Will.

Hannibal smirked.

“I could agree on that. I always liked them on you,” he said, leaning forward to kiss Will on the nose.

“And as for the stomach, I really do like yours.”

At this, Hannibal couldn’t hold back an undignified derisive noise.

“I have one too, Hannibal,” Will pressed, “It’s perfectly normal. Do you not like mine either?”

Hannibal huffed.

“Of course not, there’s nothing I would change about you.”

It was said so bluntly, so matter of fact, that Will blushed. He soldiered on, ignoring the heat on his face and Hannibal’s broad hands stroking up and down his back.

“Then why does it bother you? I like your stomach because… it makes you human. Every part of you is so well constructed, so defined and thoughtfully created. You are a lighthouse guiding ships into harbour - strong and steady and implacable. Your belly is the only part of you that’s soft and only I get to see it. Is that so hard to believe?”

For once, Hannibal was speechless. He hesitated. Then-

“I believe you.”

“So what is the problem?” asked Will.

“The eternals made a worthy discovery of immortal intellect: old age, worst of all evils, where desire clings, but hope is quenched, the founts of pleasure run dry, pain often grows, and good will not return,” quoted Hannibal.

“Yes, well, Leopardi also said, ‘It will be lonely to the end: the gods have set no limit to the gloom that darkens old age, except the tomb,’” said Will, rolling his eyes. “But, Hannibal, I do not intend for neither you nor I to be lonely ever again. I fully intend to grow old with you. And isn’t that the dream? Growing old together?” 

Hannibal just nodded, eyes bright with devotion, his love pouring off of him in silent waves that doused Will from head to toe, gentle affection that lapped at him like the waves of an ocean.

“Come,” he said.

Slowly, Will stood, tugging Hannibal up with him. He led him to the bedroom with soft touches and softer kisses, heart aching with love for this man. This man who killed with impunity and shared his madness with him, this incredible, impossible, dangerous man, was here in front of him, and only him, vulnerable and honest in a way he wasn’t capable of being with anyone else. It felt like an honour, like a crown upon his head, a responsibility to be worked towards being worthy of. 

The mirror stood in the corner of the room facing the bedroom. Will led them in front of it, slowly undressing Hannibal and batting his hands away when he tried to do the same for Will. 

“Wait,” commanded Will gently, smiling when Hannibal listened.

When Hannibal was naked, Will stepped close to him and kissed him thoroughly, like it was their first time. Gently at first, just presses of lips against lips, nose sliding against nose. He licked across the curve of Hannibal’s lip who granted him entry, simple and easy and yielding. He cradled Hannibal’s face in his hands like he was holding something precious, something that belonged there. 

Will let all his emotions flow through him as he petted down Hannibal’s back in warm, broad strokes, his hands tracing over the Verger scar. The whorls and the loops pulled taut and were uncomfortable to Hannibal at times although he didn’t complain. Will had spent many evenings rubbing bio oil into them, massaging the skin. He hated Verger for branding Hannibal in this way, but he didn’t hate the scar itself. How could he when it was a part and parcel of Hannibal himself?

He traced the ridges of the scar and one hand found its way into Hannibal soft, straight hair. He formed a fist and gently tugged Hannibal the way he wanted as he tongued into his mouth. He pulled back so they could both breathe, licking over Hannibal’s top lip before pulling the bottom one into his mouth and sucking. He let go and kissed him properly again, mouths slotting together as he pulled Hannibal flush to him, reaching down and fondling his ass. 

Hannibal broke away, panting. Will could feel his cock, a hard warmth in a line pressed into Will’s thigh. He pulled away, turning Hannibal to face the mirror, reaching up on his toes to tuck his head over his shoulder. He made eye contact with Hannibal in the mirror, stroking down his arms, and onto his chest. They stared into each other’s eyes as Will kissed the back of his neck and across his shoulders.

“I’ve always loved how broad your shoulders are,” murmured Will, lips brushing Hannibal’s skin and leaving gooseflesh in his wake. “Your arms too. Probably all that time hauling corpses around,” he teased.

Hannibal smiled in silent agreement, not taking his eyes off of Will.

Will kissed up his neck, nibbling and sucking as he went before reaching an ear. He pulled the lobe into his mouth, grinding his clothed groin into Hannibal’s ass as he did so. He traced the shell of Hannibal’s ear with his tongue, hand going to his cock to stroke it a little. Hannibal groaned at the sensations. 

“Your ears are nice too. Not like mine; they stick out.”

“I like your ears,” said Hannibal.

“I know you do,” said Will fondly as he smoothed his hands down Hannibal’s thighs and around to his ass.

“And these hands…” he trailed off.

Will reached down and intertwined his hands with Hannibal, stroking the long fingers. He brought them up to his mouth and kissed Hannibal’s knuckles. 

“These hands have killed so many. But they’ve also fed me and clothed me. Saved me and damned me. You were a God that dictated my life for so long and now I get to walk hand in hand by your side. I am so grateful, Hannibal.”

Hannibal shook his head slightly.

“I was never the God, Will.”

He walked around so he was facing Hannibal once more and kissed him once more. Then he began kissing his way down Hannibal’s body. He kissed his clavicles, leaving tiny red-purple bruises in his wake. He nuzzled Hannibal’s chest hair and licked over his nipples as he jolted a little, holding onto Will’s shoulders to balance them both. He knelt down and kissed his stomach, slowly, reverently. He dragged his stubble over the sensitive skin, tonguing Hannibal’s belly button and licking lines over the tender swell of his skin.

“If you are not my God, then why do I kneel at your altar?”

“Will…”

“I love you, and that means every single part of you,” he said, looking up at Hannibal.

He went back to mouthing kisses, slow and wet as he scratched his hands up Hannibal’s torso.

“Even the parts you don’t love.”

“Will,” whispered Hannibal again, eyes full of love.

“You loved me, all the parts of me, even the parts I hated. You saw a beauty in me when I only saw the horror. Is it so surprising I see the beauty in you too?”

He stood up, not waiting for Hannibal to respond. Pushing him backwards towards the bed, he crowded close, pressing kisses all over his face until their legs knocked against the comforter. With a gentle push, he lowered Hannibal onto the plush fabric. 

“Get the lube,” he said. 

With a graceful twist, Hannibal reached over to the bedside drawer, retrieving the lube as Will began undressing hastily, kicking his shoes off and unbuttoning his shirt and pants. Hannibal watched him get undressed with hungry eyes, and once Will was naked, he parted his legs in invitation and pulled him onto him.

Will went willingly as Hannibal angled up for a kiss, his hands feverish and sliding all over Will’s body leaving tingles in their wake. When he pulled back, Hannibal’s eyes were bright and open and aching. Will’s own chest hurt as he felt it too, a physical pulsing, a weight that anchored him to this man where his heart should be. To see, to be seen, to be cracked open and be found beautiful instead of unseemly. To be deemed sacred enough to be touched and allowed to touch in return. 

Nothing existed in that moment but the two of them, nothing mattered more than the naked slide of their holy bodies, together yet apart, two but one. This was not just sex, it was joyous, it was a celebration, it was a proof of God. Will kissed Hannibal again and again and again, overcome and unhurried, losing himself in the comfort of Hannibal’s arms. When he could take it no longer, he grabbed Hannibal’s thighs and pulled them around his waist. Hannibal automatically locked his ankles behind Will’s back, hands in his hair and on Will’s ass as he ground down, cocks wet and friction perfect. 

He moaned or perhaps it was Hannibal letting out the pleasured groan or maybe it was both of them. Where one began and the other ended, he did not know. Their edges were long gone. He buried his face in the crook of Hannibal’s neck, winding his own arms around the other man, wanting the closeness, wanting the intimacy. He wanted them to fuse on this bed, to be found years from now, bound so tightly it would be impossible to tear them apart. Every atom of him and every atom of Hannibal coexisting so beautifully that it would be a crime to separate them. 

He breathed lungfuls of Hannibal’s scent, something he had now come to know like the flow of a river or the workings of an engine. Will could recognise Hannibal by smell alone, his warm and spicy musk always reminding him of long afternoons in the kitchen, cooking and baking. Of sun on his neck after a long day outside. It comforted him and he licked at the skin there, feeling the salty taste of sweat and leaving tacky saliva in its stead.

“I love the way you smell,” he whispered into Hannibal’s ear, hips jerking.

“As do I, Will,” panted Hannibal. “You always smell divine.”

Hannibal buried his nose into Will’s hair, his arms sliding up and down Will’s back and arms as he breathed in. Will left a trail of bites down Hannibal’s neck and shoulder. He pulled Hannibal back and kissed those lips again, tasting him like wine from an altar cup, sweet and spiced. His hands thumbed down Hannibal’s torso, squeezing and pinching at his nipples. Hannibal looked down at Will’s wandering hands, mouth open and Will smiled.

“Always so sensitive here. I’ve always loved that about you,” he confessed. 

Hannibal looked away, a little embarrassed. But Will was having none of it. He disengaged entirely and Hannibal let out a bereaved noise of protest at the disappearance of blissful friction. Will attached his lips to a nipple and sucked, hands disappearing down as he started to jerk Hannibal’s cock.

This time it was definitely Hannibal who moaned, the gospel of his praises for Will ringing in his ears. Will spread the wetness leaking from the head of Hannibal’s dick down the length and slowly but firmly slid up and down and back again. He switched to the opposite nipple, teeth just teasing the edges before he soothed with kitten licks of his tongue. When Hannibal was trembling and close to the edge he moved even further down, hands spreading strong, lightly haired thighs apart as he shouldered his way between them, lips kissing a constellation across his abdomen. He fit. He fit in right there between Hannibal’s legs, in a way he had never fit anywhere else. 

When he reached the swell of Hannibal’s stomach, he looked up. Eye contact had never felt this good before to Will. He kissed Hannibal’s belly again, this time slower, even more reverent. No man this beautiful should ever feel self conscious, he thought. He rubbed his stubble over the swell of flesh, and sucked bruises here and there until Hannibal was almost sobbing with frustration, hips twitching up and down and begging for attention.

“Still don’t think you’re beautiful?” he murmured. “I have not seen a sight in the universe more beautiful than you, my own personal, terrible, holy spirit.”

“God,” moaned Hannibal.

He bit at Hannibal’s hipbones, feeling more than hearing him hiss at the sting before he soothed the bites with strong motions of his hands. He moved back to Hannibal’s stomach, petting and kissing it all over. 

“I would remake God in your image if I could,” he said and Hannibal moaned, the words alone enough to make him overwhelmed.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He grabbed the lube and slicking his fingers, entered Hannibal with one, watching his face as the digit went in. Hannibal sighed in relief. This was completion, this was a union unlike any other. He stretched Hannibal slowly, thoroughly, savouring the sighs and gasps falling from his lips like honey. It was a form of worship, he thought. One he was privileged to carry out. Seeing Hannibal like this was a gift, one no one else got to see, he thought possessively.

“You’re mine,” he said, entering a second finger, angling them both towards Hannibal’s prostate and sending him arching and scrabbling a little against the sheets. “All of you is mine. All of it. Even the parts you don’t love.”

He leaned down and licked over Hannibal’s cock, watching it jerk and twitch, before returning to his stomach and laying his head on it.

“I won’t have you disliking something that’s mine.”

A tear slid down from Hannibal’s eye and Will reached up and wiped it away, fingers pumping away inside him. He pressed their foreheads together as he added another finger, feeling Hannibal’s chest, haired and muscled, hitch with deep breaths underneath him. Finally, he pulled his fingers out, slicking his own cock and sinking into the heat and warmth of Hannibal with a groan. He was inside Hannibal, but he felt penetrated, a pleasure so strong it felt like pain snaking up his spine.

Hannibal moaned, accepting him inside with hips that moved in tandem with Will’s. It felt like coming home again, the relief of it strong and dizzying. No matter how many times they did this, Will always felt a strange shock at how tight Hannibal was. He sank in slowly so as to not hurt him, savouring the way he fit inside, marvelling at how easily Hannibal took him in, accepted him, like it was his job.

“Hannibal,” said Will, tender and open, not taking his eyes off his face. 

At that moment, in the temple of Hannibal’s tangled limbs, Will felt the presence of the Divine close by, immanent and imminent — everywhere and everywhen — and it was a sublime feeling, one that made him feel infinitely powerful and infinitely small, both at the same time. Wondrous, how love could make him feel so humble and worshipful, and larger than the confines of his own human flesh. It was better than murder, better than saving lives, better than morality. 

“You’re all I’ll ever need, Hannibal,” he said. “There is no one else higher than you.”

He kept his thrusts slow and deep, not leaving the burning clutch of Hannibal’s body, aiming at that bundle of nerves that made him clench and release over and over again. He wanted this to last forever. He wanted Hannibal to remember this time, the two of them so close that they had merged. He bracketed Hannibal in his arms and dug his knees under his ass until Hannibal was in his lap. Satisfied with the change in angle as he slid even deeper inside, Will fucked in and out and in again, encouraged by Hannibal’s shocked moans at the depth of his strokes. He threw his head back, swallowing hard when the pleasure grew blinding.

He looked down to see Hannibal’s eyes were closed and he was muttering something in Italian that sounded like a prayer. Will smiled savagely. He jabbed harder at Hannibal’s prostate, aiming upwards at the mess of sensitive nerves and watched with satisfaction as his eyes flew open and the string of words ceased and collapsed into a broken moan. Will kept his strokes deep and hard until Hannibal’s mouth was stretched open in a permanent silent wail, eyes scrunched as he struggled to keep them open and on Will, not wanting to lose sight of him even as the pleasure mounted.

Will felt a surge of affection for him that was separate to the sex entirely. No one else had given him so much in his life, their love, their lust, their bodies and minds and home and hearth and hunger. No one had seen him and wanted him so much. No one but Hannibal. What they had was like pure light, blinding and pure, energy so transformative it was transcendent. Will felt high, floating all over, but tethered to the Earth just by this one man.

“I love you so much,” moaned Will. “Wrap your legs around me, pull me in, pull me in.”

Hannibal obeyed, legs which had been akimbo coming up and urging Will into him harder and faster. Their breaths mixed, harsh and panting, the air growing hot and damp. Will braced one hand against the wall for more leverage and let go, thrusting with abandon. Hannibal moaned as the pace increased, the slide of Will’s cock alighting nerve endings inside him as the very sight of him atop Hannibal set him on fire.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded.

Hannibal let go of Will’s sweaty back, which he had been using as an anchor against the onslaught. He squirmed as Will fucked into him hard now, the sound of their flesh colliding loud and lewd. His hand found its way between them and he jerked off as Will fucked him into the mattress. At the first touch of his hand against his cock, he spasmed at the pleasure, almost sobbing at the intensity.

“Will,” gasped Hannibal. “Will, I love you.”

“I know,” murmured Will darkly, muscles straining. “I know you do. Come for me, Hannibal. Come on my cock.”

Hannibal let out a strangled noise at the words, fisting flying, hips rocking and sweat pooling in the hollows of his chest. Will could tell he was close; he just needed that final push. He removed his hand from the wall and fisted Hannibal’s hair, tugging his head back. He attached his mouth to Hannibal’s, kissing him and stealing the breath from his lungs as he maintained a tight grip on his hair, allowing the pain to meld with the pleasure, his hips jackrabbiting against Hannibal’s. He slammed in over and over again until Hannibal stiffened and jerked in Will’s grip. He broke away from Will, mouth open and gasping as he came between them. 

Will felt the splash of hot cum between them and let go of Hannibal’s hair, reaching down and stroking Hannibal’s cock, letting every drop of liquid out before he gathered it up in his fingers. He brought his fingers to Hannibal’s mouth and pushed them in, feeding him his own cum as he chased his orgasm now. Mouth slack and body shaking with aftershocks, Hannibal just moaned around his fingers, swallowing, never taking his eyes off of Will. Again and again, Will gathered the cum and let Hannibal lick it off his fingers until the sight of him with bright, teary eyes and spit and kiss swollen mouth was too much to take.

He pushed in hard, grinding his hips as he came, body shaking, almost going blind with pleasure as Hannibal clenched down, urging him to release himself inside almost cruelly. 

“Ahhhh,” he moaned, rocking in and out, fucking the cum into Hannibal. 

“Yes, Will,” said Hannibal. “Let go.”

He pulled Will down into a kiss as Will stayed inside him. The kiss gentled into small pecks as Will softened inside him. With an apologetic glance, he pulled out. Hannibal barely reacted although Will knew he would be sore and tender. He pushed Hannibal onto his side and spooned up behind him, nudging one knee up. 

Kissing his neck and shoulders, Will trailed his fingers down his back until he reached Hannibal’s hole, warm and leaking his own cum. He pushed two fingers in, not to stimulate but just to maintain the connection, not wanting to be outside Hannibal’s body if he could help it. Hannibal’s breath hitched but he did not deny Will, even sighing a little and tilting his head back to rest against Will’s.

They breathed there for a while as Will idly played with Hannibal’s ass, winding down from the intensity of the experience.

Then Hannibal laughed a little.

“What is it?” asked Will, smiling against his soft hair.

“Tell the truth, Will,” said Hannibal. “Aren’t you glad we bought the mirror?”

Will laughed, ducking his head against Hannibal's. He couldn’t even deny it.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Coming Down by Halsey.
> 
> The prompt was body worship + tummy kisses + deification of the lover 🥰
> 
> The following quotes are from Moon-Set by Giacomo Leopardi, tr. A.S. Kline:  
> 1) “The eternals made a worthy discovery of immortal intellect: old age, worst of all evils, where desire clings, but hope is quenched, the founts of pleasure run dry, pain often grows, and good will not return.”  
> 2) "It will be lonely to the end: the gods have set no limit to the gloom that darkens old age, except the tomb."
> 
> "Every atom of him and every atom of Hannibal," is a reference to The Amber Spyglass by Philip Pullman.
> 
> "At that moment, in the temple of Hannibal’s tangled limbs, Will felt the presence of the Divine close by, immanent and imminent — everywhere and everywhen — and it was a sublime feeling, one that made him feel infinitely powerful and infinitely small, both at the same time," is from The Visitor Entertains by K.D. West.
> 
> "I love you so / much wrap your legs around / me pull me in pull me in," is from Grief Has Its Blue Hands In Her Hair by Warsan Shire. 
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked what you read! More to come!
> 
> Come follow me on tumblr @snailmailthings [here](http://www.snailmailthings.tumblr.com)!


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